Ravensblood Forest only a fool would make martyrs from heathens

Roll

Thankfully the other wolf-dog continues the spar. Though Donovan could see the wonder and hesitation fixated in their body language, he’s grateful they took the bate. So when Renard comes his way baring his pearly whites Donovan can’t help but brace for impact. The second the brindles male feels those fangs latch onto his scruff he widens his stance to securely plant himself on the ground. The most unusual yet playful growl rings in his ears and the ghost of a smile on his lips is widening joyfully. A rolling laugh is even able to escape him. 

He’s limited on movement with the fur of his scruff caught in the others maw so he cranes his head as much as he’s able to to bite and nip at the others front legs. Just enough to give a little pinch of surprise.